


An Unexpected Reboot

by ifeelbetter



Category: Psych
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-07
Updated: 2010-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:02:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifeelbetter/pseuds/ifeelbetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An IT Crowd AU. Shawn and Gus are the IT division of a major corporation. Abigail may have told the teensiest-tinest lie on her resume--she claimed to have "extensive knowledge of computers" when she ought to have said she "had been in the same room as a computer once or twice"--and now she's in charge of their department.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't yet seen The IT Crowd (I hear there's a US remake that should be avoided like the plague), you ought to.

"So I see you're familiar with computers," said the strangely angry man holding her resume and glaring at it. 

"Umm, yes," Abigail said, hoping she wouldn't be asked to expand on the topic. _Maybe he wants me to be the receptionist?_ she thought to herself. _I could do that. I know how to do that._

"Fine. We've been looking for someone with a strong technological background," he said, glaring at her now, suddenly and ferociously. 

"Oh. Yes?" she said, for lack of alternatives. She felt her stomach drop.

"You _do_ know about computers, don't you?" he barked, obviously expecting her to say something tech-savy.

"Oh, definitely," she said, frantically trying to remember anything at all technological, "There's the modem. And the--um--hard drive. And the screen, of course. A keyboard. Lots of...er...RAM. For storing...things in..." she trailed off, hoping her tone had carried her through, knowing full well that she hadn't made an ounce of sense.

"Well, that all sounds in order. Can't make heads or tails of the stuff, if I'm being honest," the man said, with a sharp and sudden guffaw. His face immediately reverted to the scowl. "You seem like just the woman for the job."

"Oh. Yes. Good?" Abigail agreed warily, "Just right for the...um...job?"

The ad on Craigslist hadn't been at all specific. It was one of those things, you're making lists in the middle of the night, you send off a gazillion e-mails and then someone responds but you have no idea which one they were or what you said you were qualified. One of those things. 

She gulped.

"Thanks, Mr. ... um?" she said, trying to find some mention of his name around the office. Damn. How did she not know this?

"Lassiter. Carlton Lassiter. I'm in charge of things around here, you'll be reporting directly to me," he said, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. Oh, god, he was one of _those_ bosses. She'd had dozens like him, who assume they know absolutely everything and never listen to anything for more than five minutes and get distracted by anything vaguely shiny. 

"Lovely," she said, "And my responsibilities..." She trailed off hoping he would finish her sentence. She wasn't disappointed.

"You'll be head of the IT Department," he said and she could have sworn there was an evil glint in his eye as he said it.

"Right. Of course," she said, "What are they all like?"

"Your typical bottom-feeding nerds," he said, a slightly manic grin beginning to show, "As a matter of fact, why don't you begin right now? I can show you the way." He stood and held his hand out. She shook it warily.

"Oh, yes. Sure. Now? Yes, of course," she said, following him out of his office.

The building was the epitome of corporate chic. Svelte women in stilettos were draped over nearly every office door, charmingly understated businessmen in pastel-colored shirts were laughing in a corridor as they passed, the view was incredible--she had to literally stop herself from standing on tiptoe and checking whether she could see her house from here. Her excitement swelled.

 _This is it, I am finally in charge of something,_ she thought, _And that will just show them for calling me Least Likely To Succeed in the high school yearbook._

Mr. Lassiter lead her to the elevator and held the door open. She was already reaching for the buttons when she realized her wasn't following her in.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"Basement level. You can't miss it," he said, stepping back as the doors closed.

She pressed the rather rusty button marked "B." Her stomach plummeted. 

***

A phone was ringing.

A phone was always ringing.

Shawn looked at the phone. Then he looked at the pineapple smoothie in his left hand. He looked back at the ringing phone. Then he looked at the Tyrannosaurus Rex figurine in his right hand. 

He moved it experimentally, miming a snarl.

He looked back at the phone.

He sighed and put down the dinosaur. 

He picked it up.

"Hello?" _Pause._ "Yeah, have you tried turning it off and on again?" _Pause._ "OK, the button is on the side." _Pause._ "Of the computer. It's on the side of the computer." _Pause._ "It's a button on the side of the computer." _Pause._ "You _do_ know what a button is, don't you?" _Pause._ "No, not like on clothes, like on a computer. Press the button." 

He pulled the phone away from his ear and rolled his eyes at it.

"Look is there someone in the cubicle next to you?" _Pause._ "Good. Excellent. Go ask him--sorry, I see, yes,--go ask _Bob_ to come over here." _Pause._ "Yes, you're doing splendidly. Ask Bob if he knows what a button is." _Pause._ "Let joy be unconfined. Tell Bob to press your button." _Pause._ "Well, that's just rude, sir. Appealing, but rude."

He hung up the phone. 

"Hey, Gus!" he called. Gus popped his head out of the tiny coffee room attached to the main office space.

"What, Shawn, what? I already told you that I'm on my ten minute coffee break. Everyone deserves a ten minute coffee break," he groused.

"I'm not allowed to talk to you when you're on your coffee break? Since when?"

"Since I told you fifteen minutes ago not to talk to me when I was on my coffee break, Shawn."

"How was I supposed to know we were starting the new rule right away? Also, I don't remember agreeing to it," Shawn said. He paused thoughtfully. "I bet I have veto power."

"You do _not_ have veto power."

"I so have veto power."

"Why would you have veto power over my coffee break?"

"Dude, I so totally outrank you. I was here for a month before you--"

"That was ten years ago, Shawn. Once you've worked someplace ten years, everyone is equal."

"That isn't a rule. You just made that up."

"I didn't! It's called _tenure_ , Shawn. It's called that because it means 'ten years.'" Gus smirked triumphantly.

"I'm looking it up on dictionary.com," Shawn said, pulling his laptop towards him.

"You don't have to look it up, I just told you," Gus said, and then saw the screen, "Shawn, how many times do I have to tell you that Wikipedia is not a reliable source?"

"It says here," Shawn said, pointing to the screen, "That you made that stuff up."

"It does not."

"It does."

"Does not."

"'Burton Magic-Pants-McGee Guster has theorized that 'tenure' is derived from the words 'ten' and 'years' but he is incredibly wrong,'" Shawn read from the screen.

"It doesn't say that," Gus said, craning around Shawn.

"It will in five minutes," Shawn amended, beginning to type, "B-U-R-T-"

"Stop writing that," Gus said, pulling the laptop away. Shawn immediately pulled it back. Gus gave up and ran to his own computer.

"Two can play at this game, Shawn Silly Head Spencer," he said, beginning to also type.

"Gus, I'm embarrassed for you. 'Silly Head'? That's the best you got?" Shawn said. "I'm not even touched by that. Actually, I lie. I'm a little flattered."

"This is why Wikipedia is not a reliable source, Shawn," Gus said. 

They both finished typing at the same moment. There was a pause as they stared at each other then they both tried to load the same Wikipedia page at the same time.

"'Pending'?!" Shawn said, throwing his hands up in disappointment, "That was a total waste of three minutes!"

"And now, thanks to you, I don't get to finish my coffee," Gus said, "I have to leave it in the coffee room and it'll get cold and gross before I have another break."

"Nobody is here, Gus. You could get naked and dance a jig on the desks, no one would care."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? If I descended to your level?" Gus scoffed. Shawn considered.

"You're right, I would really enjoy that."

"Stop it, Shawn."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're thinking things I don't want you thinking."

"You can't make rules about my thinking. I can't control that sort of thing. Sometimes I just have to think about you naked, dancing a jig on the desk."

"Stop thinking about me naked and dancing a jig on the desks, Shawn!"

"And the more you talk about it, the more I think about it."

"Stop it, Shawn, or I really--" Gus was interrupted by the phone ringing. He picked up the one on his desk.

"Hello and thank you for calling the IT Department. You've reached Burton Guster. How may I be of service?" he said, faux-cheerfully. He listened, muttering encouraging grunts, as the speaker explained the problem. Shawn began inventing a paperclip catapult.

There was a polite cough from the door. Abgail waved weakly.

"Hi?" she asked, "Is this the IT Department? I got a bit lost. I was on the elevator and then when it got below the Ground level it started to shake and the lights were flickering and then there were all these rubbish bags in the hallway..." she trailed off. "This _is_ IT, right?" Shawn nodded vehemently but still hadn't managed to find his tongue. She beamed.

"I'm so glad. My name is Abigail. I've been made the manager of this department," she said, holding a hand out. Shawn's jaw dropped and Gus froze in mid-sentence.

"I'll have to call you back," Gus said and hung up the phone. "Say what now?"

"I've been made in charge? Of this department?" she said, trying to smile but fast losing the ability.

"You must be confused. Who told you this vile falsehood?" Shawn said, finally finding his voice.

"Well, it was Mr. Lassiter, actually," she said, "I just was hired. He was very angry but then he said I was perfect for the job and I should start right away. Only he wouldn't come down with me, it was very weird."

"That sounds like Lassie-pants," Shawn agreed. "But he can't have meant _IT_. I mean. We all know I'm in charge here."

"You're not in charge of anything," Gus said.

"I have seniority and you know it."

"Guys! I really was hired to be the new manager here so I'd appreciate it if you'd just show me where my office is so I can get settled," Abigail said decisively. Shawn and Gus exchanged a look. 

"You're standing in front of it," Gus said.

"It's the door marked 'Manager of IT'" said Shawn.

Abigail turned around. As promised, there was the door to her new office. 

"Right. I'll just...get started then, shall I?" she said, "Good work, team!" She hurried in and closed the door soundly behind her. 

"'Go Team'?" Shawn asked. "But we haven't even done anything yet."

The phone rang again and Gus went back to his desk to answer it. 

"Hello?" he said. "Yes, I'm sorry about the interruption. You were saying...?"

Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Gus, we have to do something about this. Something drastic. With a plan, maybe," he said, trying to distract Gus from the call.

"And after it hisses then what does it do?" Gus asked the caller, glaring at Shawn.

"I'll even make the plan. Oh! I've already got it!" he said, jumping in front of Gus's desk. Gus continued to glare. "Gus, you know you want to know what my plan is. Gus!" Gus gestured that he would kill Shawn if he didn't start being silent.

Shawn sighed and picked up the phone on his desk.

"Hi, yeah, sorry to interrupt and all but have you tried turning it off and on again?" he said. He paused. "Yep, that solves that. You're welcome, hope you come back now, y'hear?"

He hung up. Gus spluttered in rage and hung up his phone as well.

"I _had_ that, Shawn. And it was a woman. You know I'm, like, two maintenance calls away from actually speaking to Maureen on the sixth floor," he said. "I could have used that as an excuse to go up to 6th and talk to her."

"Or you could have used it to be a creeper and mouth breathe at her for fifteen minutes like you did last time," Shawn said, rolling his eyes, "Let's be serious for a minute here. With a hot bod like yours, you're settling for _Maureen_ on Six? Please. She should be so lucky."

"A 'hot bod,' Shawn? Really," Gus said, "The nineties called and they want their lingo back."

"Gus, we've talked about how that is not a funny joke or witty at all."

"Right. That was a slam dunk and you know it," Gus said, miming a baseball swing.

"You just mimed a home run. It's a different sport."

"Whatever. What's your cunning plan, anyway?"

"I _knew_ you wanted to know about my cunning plan--good use of 'cunning' by the way. That's a word that needs to get used more," Shawn said.

"You know it," Gus said. They fist-bumped briefly. 

"Now, let me explain the concept of this delicate and complex plan."

"Yeah."

"You have to listen."

"I'm listening, Shawn!"

"You weren't looking at me, how could I be sure?" Shawn said. Gus rolled his eyes. "How much do you want to be that she's one of those people who claims to know stuff about computers on her resume but is really completely clueless?"

"Yeah, so?"

"All we have to do is catch her saying something stupid and then we'll laugh at her, pour milk down her pants, and she'll be too embarrassed to come to school tomorrow."

"That's a terrible plan. And mean," Gus said and then remembered, "Isn't that what that bully did to you in fifth grade? You told me about that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Gus. I have always been a suave, unflappable cool person," Shawn said, hurriedly. 

"I'm going to go in there and see if she needs anything. I'm going to be _nice_ ," Gus said. 

"Whyyyy?" Shawn whined.

"Because she's a pretty girl and we never get to talk to pretty girls. We work for _IT_ , Shawn. We may never see a woman again," Gus said, knocking on the door.

"One minute!" Abigail called from inside. She hurriedly tried to look busy. She picked up the phone and pretended to have an important conversation.

"Come in, guys," she called and the spoke into the phone, "Alright. Yeah. You're brilliant. Well, just you get right on that, then. Thanks. Bye." She hung up the phone again. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"I just thought we got off on the wrong foot, so to speak, so I wondered if I could help you set up...or set up your...phone?" Gus said, faltering on the part of the sentence that nearly amounted to an accusation of incompetency. She blushed.

"Oh. Um. It was already on, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, still blushing, "You just heard me using it."

"But it's not plugged in," Shawn said, pointing to the cord dangling helplessly off the side of her desk.

"Fine! Whatever," she said, blushing even more. "Look, to be honest, I didn't want this job any more than you want me to have it. I just got assigned. Can't we be friends? I'm sure I have something to offer you guys."

"You don't know anything about technology, though, right?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah, OK, I don't know anything about technology," she said. Shawn punched a fist in the air and did a short dance. 

"Called it," he said. Gus shrugged and fist-bumped him.

"Can't we get along though?" she said, "Even if I'm not geek chic?"

"Yeah, it's fine by me," Gus said, trying to smile flirtatiously, "You hear about Pluto? That's messed up, right?" Abigail looked confused and Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Dude. Enough with Pluto," he said, "You're cute and all but that line has so gone out of style."

"I'm Gus. He's Shawn," Gus said, ignoring Shawn, "We hope you'll have a good time working here. Let us know if you need anything." He tugged at Shawn's sleeve. Abigail called after Shawn in the doorway.

"You guys, like, y'know?" she said. He waited to see if anything more elucidating would follow.

"Like what?" he asked. She made a vague motion with one hand.

"You know." She gestured again, still incomprehensibly. He shook his head. She blushed. "Like--together? Are you two, like, a couple, or something?"

"Please. Like I could rate that fine black ass," Shawn said and closed the door behind him.

 _Aha_ , Abigail thought, _there IS something I could help you guys with._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I collected pickup lines from all over the internet. It's amazing how you can type [random word] + "pickup lines" and always find something. My favorite one that I didn't get to use was "Your mouth says, 'Shields up!', but your eyes say, 'A hull breach is imminent.'"

If Shawn and Gus were not entirely supportive of Abigail's new boyfriend, they comforted themselves with the knowledge that this was not because they were themselves a pair of social pariahs but that Abigail and Buzz were sickeningly, awfully repulsive as a couple. 

Abigail liked to remind them that they were nevertheless still a pair of social pariahs. 

Shawn typically stuck his tongue out at this juncture in the conversation. 

It was so bad that Shawn felt himself falling asleep, in a Pavlovian response, every time Buzz walked through the door. Within seconds, the couple would begin to enumerate whatever trivial things had happened at extreme length ("You buy the same cheese. You made a 20 minute story out of buying the same cheese?!"), pausing for long interludes of baby talk and pet names. 

Gus, who was still of the philosophy that being near a woman would help dispel some of his natural IT vibes, had even begun to show signs of repulsion. Five minutes into any story and his left eye would begin to twitch with increasing frequency. 

So they were both miserable beyond expression one afternoon when Buzz had dropped by and the couple had delved into the story of the cheeses for what felt like the thousandth time. In the climactic moment in which Abigail had found a round a Gouda hidden between two small goat cheeses and found her hand connecting with a stranger's, Buzz's phone began to ring. 

Gus and Shawn did a brief joyous dance when neither Abigail nor Buzz was looking.

Abigail still caught the tail end and glowered ferociously. 

While Buzz answered the call in the hallway, Abigail addressed Shawn and Gus directly.

"Look, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot and all," she said, "But I think we've really begun to respect each other, yeah? I value your opinions, really. I think we're bonding on a really deep level, you know?"

"You made a 20 minute story out of a round of Gouda, Abby," said Shawn. 

"You've told it dozens of times now," agreed Gus. 

"That's not respect. That's more like torture," said Shawn. 

"No, but _really_ , guys. I think we're friends now, right?" she insisted. 

"You're gonna make a girl blush," said Shawn, miming a girlish embarrassment. 

"Or, in normal people speak: thanks, Abigail. That's really nice of you to say," Gus said, giving Shawn a Look. 

Buzz came back into the room, closing his phone.

"Bad news, baby," he said, "It looks like Jeff and Steve have to cancel." Abigail sighed.

"Oh no! That's terrible!" she exclaimed, "Now the evening's ruined! What are we going to do?"

"I have no idea," Buzz agreed, putting on his jacket, "We'll have to cancel unless..."

"Unless...?" she said hopefully.

"Unless you have two guys friends who aren't busy tonight," said Buzz, kissing Abigail on the cheek without noticing how frozen her expression had suddenly become. Gus and Shawn exchanged a glance that said, completely transparently, _We are so going to a dinner party with normal people tonight!_

Buzz left and Abigail tried to fix her gaze on anything other than the two men grinning at her. 

"Look at us, Gus," Shawn said, overly loud, "two guys friends of Abigail's."

"And I'm pretty sure we're not busy tonight," Gus agreed, "And we're two guys friends of Abigail's."

"If Abigail was to need, say, two guy friends--"

"--who are free tonight."

"--who are free tonight, like every night," Shawn deadpanned, "We would be it."

"Guys--" Abigail began, imploringly.

"Because we're _really_ friends now, right?" Gus added.

"I blushed," Shawn reminded her. 

"He did blush," Gus agreed. 

"Guys," Abigail began, more decisively, "You wouldn't _actually_ want to be stuck with me and a couple of my friends all evening when you've been crammed in here all day with only my company? That sounds dreadful."

"No, Abby, I think you're misunderstanding our lives," Shawn said earnestly. 

"We're pathetic, really," Gus agreed, equally earnestly. 

"It's not so much a question of being sick of you after spending all day with you," Shawn elaborated. "It's more like we never see women."

"Ever," Gus said.

"It's a privilege to spend our days cooped up with you," Shawn said. 

"Even though you're somewhat of a crazy person," Gus said. 

"That was rude, Gus."

"I meant it as a compliment."

"He meant it as a compliment, Abigail," Shawn said, addressing her again, "So we're still your new special friends, right?" 

Abigail sighed. 

"Fine."

Shawn and Gus pounded on it. Gus had to get up and cross the room to do it but they both felt it was a vital moment. 

" _Fine_ ," she repeated, "But there are _rules_. Important rules."

Shawn saluted.

"This is going to go terribly, isn't it?" she said. Gus and Shawn exchanged a look and then both nodded. 

***

"You're not allowed to talk about computers at all," Abigail said as she answered the door, "Not even if someone confuses memory and RAM." Gus laughed loudly.

"Oh, Abigail. Everyone knows memory _is_ RAM," he said, laughing as if it was the joke of the year. Shawn laughed slightly less loudly, acknowledging the absurd geekiness of the joke but unable to contain his own mirth.

"Oh, god," Abigail said. 

"We brought you a gift," Shawn said, holding out a pineapple. 

"We need a code," she said, leading them into the apartment. "A sign that means you need to stop talking."

"You should pick your nose. That's a good sign, right?" Shawn suggested. 

"No. I'm not going to pick my nose at a dinner party," she said. 

"How about coughing? You should cough."

"I don't have a distinctive enough cough."

"You really do," Gus said. 

"It's like a mastodon's mating call," Shawn agreed. 

"I don't cough like--wait, why do you know what a mastodon's mating call sounds like?" Abigail said, begrudgingly diverted from her train of thought.

"Because I ate my Wheaties as a child and have a vivid imagination," Shawn answered promptly. 

"You know that's right," Gus agreed and Abigail rolled her eyes as they pounded their fists.

The doorbell rang.

"Look, that's them but here's the thing--" Abigail said, walking backwards out of the room to try to avail herself of every moment of haranguing possible before she inflicted these two men on her friends, "--I _will_ cough when you begin to be embarrassing--"

"You say that like it's a guaranteed thing," Shawn said, feigning shock.

"We might be perfect gentlemen," Gus added.

" _When_ you begin to embarrass me, I will cough. You will desist from all activity at that moment or _so help me god_ I will remove your ribcage through your nose and wear it as haute couture," Abigail said. She paused with her hand on the door, sighed, and turned one last time.

"Also," she said, feeling compelled to be honest, "Shawn."

"Abigail."

"I should warn you. You'll be sitting next to Lindsay. She's...um...she's...well, she just had a bad breakup and she's...um..."

"I only understand you when you speak English and only a fraction of the time then," Shawn said patiently. 

"She's _on the lookout_ , if you know what I mean," Abigail finished, flustered. 

"'On the lookout' like a spy? Is she a spy?" Shawn said. 

"She's not a spy, idiot. She's _overzealous_ ," Abigail said and watched understanding decidedly NOT cross Shawn's face. The doorbell rang again, with a decided tinge of annoyance to the length of the buzzer.

"I give up. Just play nice," she said after weighing the given value of getting her point across against potential psychological damage in having to explain to Shawn that Lindsay could only be described as "predatory" when it came to men (and that would be putting it lightly). 

"When do I not play nice?" Shawn asked as she left the room, "Tell her, Gus. Tell her I play nice all the time."

"She's not even in the room anymore."

"I will accept all compliments regarding myself in her place."

Buzz backed through one of the doors at that moment with a casserole dish and Abigail returned with her guests. She introduced them to Buzz and then swallowed before turning to Gus and Shawn. 

"Mira, Lindsay, these are my work friends. From work," she said. And if she didn't manage to repeat the fact that she only knew them through work another dozen or so times before she finished introducing them, it wasn't from lack of trying. 

Buzz's food was delicious--beyond expectation, everyone asserted vehemently. And, shockingly, neither Gus nor Shawn made a horrifically nerd-tastic catastrophe of the conversation. Gus allowed himself to be managed beautifully by Mira, who liked to have her way with a conversation. He blushed cutely and agreed with whatever she said. 

Shawn, on the other hand, was doing less well. Lindsay had gotten off to a spectacular start. She'd dropped into the seat next to him and declared that she'd been "pre-gaming" a bit (which anyone within a five mile radius of her breath would have been able to tell) but, and this was said with a raunchy wink, he shouldn't let that stop him from taking advantage of her. He had coughed politely and made a comment about the weather. By the middle of dinner, she had a hand clenched on his thigh under the table. 

When Abigail retreated into the kitchen to grab a serving spoon, Shawn followed her. 

"What have you done to me, Abigail? Why do you hate me?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders.

"Oh, please, Shawn. She's a beautiful woman and she's madly hitting on you. Your life is so wretched," she said with a snort.

Gus had followed but froze.

"What? Where?" he asked.

"In the dining room with a hand on my upper thigh," Shawn said and then, because he was Shawn, he paused and said, "And that, my friends, is how Clue could be improved."

"Who? Why?" Gus asked.

"Dude. Are you just hitting all the question words?"

" _Lindsay_? And _Shawn_?"

"More like Lindsay on her own with only the faintest of involvement from Shawn," Abigail said. Shawn opened his mouth to complain further but she held a hand up and continued, "Look, Shawn. I tried to warn you. But, really, I'm not feeling so much sympathy for your predicament right now."

"Lindsay _and_ Shawn?"

"Dude. Women have been interested in me before. It's happened."

"No, it hasn't, Shawn. No woman has ever been interested in you. Ever."

"Please. My milkshake brings all the girls to the yard, Gus."

"Boys. Behave," Abigail said, "Shawn, be nice but firm. She's handsy and drunk. I think even you can take her. Gus, what are you even doing back here?"

"I don't think it's any of your business but I have to use the little boy's room."

"That was invasive questioning, Abigail," Shawn said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

She rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Second door to the left. Shawn, come on."

***

Shawn, because he considered himself a gentleman, offered to walk Lindsay home. 

Lindsay, because she was definitively not a gentleman, leered. 

Shawn had no sooner closed Abigail's door behind him and walked down the three steps of her stoop than Lindsay had him pinned against a lamppost.

It had, actually, been quite a long time for Shawn. He had been a bit of a player in the geek world before he met Gus, as far as the geek world has players. He would go into anime conventions or his weekly Star Wars role-playing poker game (he was Darth Vader, obviously), drop one of his Harry Potter pick-up lines ("When I said 'Accio Hottie,' I didn't expect it to work!"), and walk away with a good old one night stand. 

And he wasn't opposed to picking up a guy at a Star Wars convention with one of his more direct, dude-appropriate geek pickup lines ("I may look like an Ewok, but I'm all Wookie where it counts, baby"). He had always figured that geeks were unlikely to score at all so why reduce the probability of bow-chicka-bow-wow by limiting the scope of your potential partner pool?

But he had lost his mojo, Austin Powers style, over the past decade or so since meeting Gus. It hadn't been a sudden thing, it had taken a while to completely abandon him. At first it was simply the social faux-pas of talking only about Gus on dates. Then it got even worse and he was actually thinking about Gus in the moment itself. And then he found that he wasn't even tempted by people who didn't say his name in that half-annoyed, half-intrigued way. And he was happier bickering with Gus, in their hetero-life partner codependency _thing_ , then anywhere or with anyone else.

Still. It had been an awfully long time. So if he was invested in the hot-n-heavy happening against the lamppost (and his favorite Narnia pickup line crossed his mind: "Are you from Narnia? Cuz you make my lion roar"), it was simply some kind of pent-up frustration thing.

He broke away, both of them breathing heavily.

"Look, Lindsay--" he said and she smirked and started to pull him in again. He pushed back slightly, enough to have his mouth to himself. "No, really, Lindsay--"

"Yeah, I know, nerd confession now," she said, punctuating her words with more of the afore-mentioned hot-n-heavy, "You're hopelessly devoted, etc."

"Well, yeah," Shawn said, feeling he was suddenly a step or two behind the conversation, "So this is...you know."

"Yeah, this is _you know_ ," Lindsay said, pulling back to leer at him. He had never seen such expert leering before. "This is a thing. It's not gibbons mating for life. It's just this."

"You are so hot when you know Animal Planet factoids," he said, breathlessly. She grinned into his ear, which is where her mouth happened to be at the moment. 

"So what do you say? Why don't we head to my bedroom, peel back my Star Wars sheets, and discover what a true Jedi can do with his light-saber?" she said. He groaned.

"You are irresistible, lady," he said. "But it's that whole hopelessly devoted thing. I really am. You know. Devoted." He pulled back entirely. 

"You know he's straight, right?" she said, "I mean, I got grade-A, NASA-level gaydar. I knew you were batting for both teams the minute I walked in the door and I can tell you now, that's a boy who doesn't even _see_ the other team."

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I know."

"So your plan is what? Mope in corners till death do you part?" she asked. 

"Pretty much."

"It's a flawed plan."

"I've been told."

"I don't have to get in the way of the emo. We could play Olivia Newton-John while we're in flagrante delicto, if you know what I'm saying."

"I do and you get hotter by the minute so if you could stop and say something offensive or gross, that would make this moment a lot easier on me," he said. She grinned.

"Not my style," she said. She ran a hand through her hair. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Thanks."

"I think I can find my own way home," she said. She kissed his cheek. "Call me if you ever toss the plan. I'm an FML just waiting to happen."

"Are you ever," he agreed. She smirked again and walked away. He sighed and watched her retreating figure.

"There but for a stupid crush.." he muttered. 

"Shawn." And Shawn grinned inwardly at the familiar voice even as his mind manically raced through the past ten minutes, trying to remember when the door might have opened. It was just the right mixture of annoyance, interest, and, in this case, confusion. 

"Guster."

"Shawn Spencer."

"Burton Guster."

" _Shawn_. Have you been crushing on my fine black ass and you never mentioned?"

"Maybe a little?"

"And did you just turn down a girl who used a Star Wars pickup line for moping in the corner over me?"

"Only if you actually heard that part of the conversation."

"I did, Shawn, and I am shocked."

Shawn winced. 

"Look, if we can have a decade of bromance without you queuing in, don't you think I can be unobtrusive in my boundless affection? I can totally keep in on the DL. No straight-boy freak-out required," he said. Gus snorted.

"Please, Shawn. Like you're the only one who ever traded teams," Gus said and turned around to hail a cab that was passing. 

"Gus, you live, like, two blocks away. What do you need a cab for?" Shawn asked, his mind boggling at Gus's revelation but, as always, distracted by a minor mystery.

"Because I think we need to be home sooner rather than later, Shawn," Gus said, sliding into the cab. He waited as Shawn boggled some more.

"Shawn. Get in this cab right now," he clarified.

"But I don't live at your apartment, Gus. I live at my apartment."

"But tonight," Gus said slowly, enunciating so Shawn's monumentally slowed brain could catch his words, "You're coming home with me." Shawn still stood fixed to the spot. Gus sighed. He climbed out of the cab and grabbed Shawn's hand, pulling him into the cab.

"Why am I going home with you?" Shawn asked.

"Because I think you could be an integral part of my project life cycle," Gus said, pulling Shawn closer.

"Oh."

And even if his brain hadn't quite caught up yet, the rest of Shawn seemed pretty happy to play along.


End file.
